


In The Bleak Midwinter

by deceptigeek



Series: Christmas giftfics 2019... Now in August! [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Delphi arc, character introspection, discussion of trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 13:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22416628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deceptigeek/pseuds/deceptigeek
Summary: Fallen snow can hide a whole lot.
Relationships: Ambulon/First Aid (Transformers)
Series: Christmas giftfics 2019... Now in August! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1591342
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	In The Bleak Midwinter

**Author's Note:**

> Second of the Christmas giftfics, this time for abucketofprotons on tumblr!

_Of all the places,_ Ambulon thought to himself in dismay. _Of all the places to stop for shore leave after Delphi -_ another ice planet _?!_

A gust of wind blew across from the purplish tundra where the Lost Light had parked; it was mild, compared to Delphi, and Ambulon barely felt it against his plating, but he still shivered and wrapped his arms around his middle. 

Purple _fragging vegetation, too. Are they trying to make some sort of sick joke, or is the captain just that stupid?_

All in all, he was seriously questioning why he’d allowed First Aid to drag him outside. The other medic had been right, in a way - stewing in their habsuite couldn’t possibly be a good idea, after everything that’d happened - but Ambulon was still at a loss as to how his companion could be unaffected by their surroundings. 

It didn’t help that the landing procedure had only completed as dusk was drawing near. Stepping out into the half light, Ambulon couldn’t shake the feeling that a few paces ahead he might stumble over the twitching, frostbitten frame of another defector trying to claim sanctuary; a spindly figure spitting lightning, launching themselves from behind a rock; a motionless body with broken wings and hands, crumpled against the snow. 

Even the footprints he was leaving behind made him jumpy - you didn’t venture outside on Delphi unless there was absolutely nothing else for it, and with good reason. Each time Ambulon glanced over his shoulder, the track he’d made through the snow seemed entirely too conspicuous, like a shout echoing across the snowy plain.

_Decepticon traitor, this way!_

Compulsively, he swung round and kicked up the snow surrounding the last few marks. It wouldn’t help in the slightest, there wasn’t anything he actually needed help against, but if he didn’t do _something_ he was probably going to give in and sprint all the way back to the _Lost Light_. 

“Ambulon?”

Careful fingers, lacing with his own; a hand sliding up his arm. He tensed for the briefest of seconds, but allowed it, vents still cycling shallow puffs of steam into the frigid air. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re actually enjoying this.” Ambulon couldn’t manage much above a whisper. 

“Not entirely,” admitted First Aid. “Sorta wish they’d picked a different destination. Planet with a bit of a tropical region, maybe.” 

“Yeah. sorta.” 

“But I figure, at least this way I can try to put it behind me? It’s not about the snow, really, it’s… he’s already taking up so much space in my head.” First Aid’s voice dropped now, too - perhaps he feared his own sort of eavesdroppers. “I catch sight of a rock, or one of the cliff faces, and I keep thinking…”

Ambulon squeezed his fingers around those of his companion, just the tiniest bit. “I keep thinking too.”

“Or - or all the mecha we left behind, the ones from before Ratchet and the others arrived.” A self-deprecating sigh. “I know I’m being silly, I smelted so many of them myself, but the snowfall hides _so much_.”

“You have nightmares.”

“Nothing compared to yours, I’m sure.”

“But they’re still nightmares.” Ambulon’s fingers tightened. “And, well. I’ve had mine for ages - there’s plenty of scope and variety. It’s not just a bit of cold that’ll make me…”

“I know.” 

First Aid’s response was somehow a shock to the system and wholly unsurprising at the same time. Back on Delphi, Ambulon would never have dared breathe even a hint about his past; for all that Pharma had put on a show of championing a rehabilitated ‘con, there’d always been something about his manner that suggested it was favourable to talk about that only as an abstract concept, and best not mention the gory details. Aid wasn’t naive, though, for all his idealism. He must have had some idea of what Ambulon had escaped, what was still looming over him. 

Part of it, too, was Ambulon’s fear of showing weakness, even amongst those who were sheltering him. So close to DJD territory, any small chink in his armour felt like a gaping wound. 

Then again, First Aid _was_ a healer. And not just by dint of his vocation. 

Slowly, Ambulon loosened his grip on the other mech’s servo, drawing him round to stand by his side. First Aid decided to take more than that hint, and continued his momentum until he’d turned and pressed himself against Ambulon’s chest, one arm coming up to cradle Ambulon’s helm and pull him closer. 

“Wanna go back in? I’m no Rung, but it feels like he’d be giving us a proud smile and then a stern look right about now.” 

Tentatively, Ambulon slid his arms around First Aid’s waist, resting his cheek against the top of the shorter mech’s helm. He kept his optics trained on the horizon, but let himself draw a deep inhale, and take what comfort he could from it: the crisp smell of snow that might always feel a little too sharp, but with its edges tempered by First Aid’s familiar scent. Medical grade solvent, low grade energon - soft and almost comforting in its unobtrusiveness… and a brighter hint of the fancy polish he always used. Had always used, Ambulon suspected, as an attempt to make things feel a little less bleak, even in the last days of Delphi. 

“Give me a moment,” Ambulon murmured. “I’m suddenly feeling a bit better.” He turned his face, briefly, so that First Aid would feel the smile pressed to his forehelm. “Can’t imagine why.”

First Aid gave a self-conscious little huff, but snuggled closer. 

They stood there until Ambulon genuinely did start to feel the cold nipping at his plating - at some point, First Aid had settled his chin on the other mech’s shoulder, and the idea that they were watching each other’s backs went a long way towards forming a little bubble of security out in the middle of the tundra. 

Just as Ambulon was about to suggest making a move, First Aid sucked in a tiny gasp. In the next moment, his gasp turned to soft shushes and reassuring whispers, as he felt his companion tense up in response. 

“Ambulon, it’s okay. Sorry. I know I shouldn’t have startled you, just… turn around. I promise it’s nothing bad.” 

Warily, Ambulon did so; still clinging to First Aid as much as the shift in position would allow. As he turned, he became aware of a faint green light suffusing the other mech; despite the reassrance, his immediate thoughts turned to searchlights, or the beam of a Decepticon dropship.

First Aid’s gaze was soft, though, as he looked out over the plain. The same soft gaze Ambulon had seen watching through the shuttle’s porthole, as they finally broke out of Delphi’s atmosphere and into the glitter of space. When he himself finally spotted what had his companion so transfixed, Ambulon couldn’t really blame him. 

The sight was familiar, but so much more _real_ , and encompassing, than he’d ever seen it before. Something new - something wholly removed from fear - constricted his chest. 

“They have an aurora,” First Aid murmured, and Ambulon nodded absently as he watched the sky dance overhead. 

He’d occasionally glimpsed Delphi’s from the windows of the clinic, snaking above the mountains far in the distance. It’d been pretty enough, he’d supposed at the time - as pretty as something could be, anyway, when you could only ever observe it from afar, out of justifiable fear for your life. 

Standing beneath this one now… while he wouldn’t exactly have said getting closer to Delphi’s aurora would’ve been worth the risk, it did make him feel a little bitter that he’d never had the chance. The ribbons of light almost resembled a spark’s corona, magnified a thousandfold and angled through a prism to bring out all the myriad hues that medical science had proven lurked there, within the usual white-blue glow. Although not a religious mech, Ambulon couldn’t help the fleeting thought that perhaps this was what Primus’ own corona might look like to the naked eye. 

Much like gazing at a spark, the light spilling overhead was easy enough to get lost in - easy to forget the open space around the pair that left them standing vulnerable, or the memories that snow couldn’t bury. Even as an experienced medic Ambulon would sometimes have to pause, just before beginning a procedure, and take a moment to reconcile that the inconspicuous little light before him on the operating table contained so many multitudes of information, experience, and promise. 

This was a little like that, perhaps. A nondescript ball of rock and ice, so similar to the one that’d housed and begotten so much horror in the past, still had the potential to throw out something remarkable. Something worth forging out over the tundra, no matter how much terror - whether phantom or very, very real - snapped at your heels. 

His frame finally slumping, the tension bleeding away like snowmelt, Ambulon glanced down at the mech still clasped to his side. 

Something remarkable, indeed. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
